


Petition to Give Mom Lalonde a Hug

by fenHarel



Series: HSWC 2014 Bonus Round 2 [7]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alcoholism, Depression, Gen, I can't decide if Sburb ends up happening or not, Mom Lalonde needs a hug, Sadstuck, or if this exists in the same AU as other fics I've posted so far, or is just tagging a Lalonde function as an alcohol tag?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-28
Updated: 2014-06-28
Packaged: 2018-02-06 12:54:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1858749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fenHarel/pseuds/fenHarel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>haam sap lo 鹹濕佬, Cantonese, "dirty old man" i.e. "old perverted bastard" </p><p>breakdown: "haam" means salty/fishy, "sap" means wet/moist/damp and "lo" means old dude.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Petition to Give Mom Lalonde a Hug

**Author's Note:**

> Here's some pale Bro/Mom, because this pretty much mirrors the friendship I have with my current palecrush. Well, minus the emotional drinking.

It's ridiculously hot here in Texas, and you're really not sure how Strider handles living here. 

(You never wanted to call him Bro, but he refused to tell you his actual name, so you tried to force him to call you Ms. Lalonde. The bastard heard Rose call you and refer to you as "Mom" so now he'll either whine the term while addressing you or combine it with your last name. On the bright side, you overheard his last name, so now you have some options. One option. Calling him “Strider.”)

The rule's always been the same between the two of you. Either you fly to Texas, or he flies to New York, depending on who's feeling unbalanced at that point in time. And you keep your children out of it. The two of you have even made it into what feels like a routine. You'll hang around in hotels with ridiculous game systems hooked together with a couple tvs and a sound system, and play games until you or him talk out whatever's been bothering you enough to travel across the country for a visit. 

Once the emotional bullshit's been taken care of, you'll both head down to the hotel bar and get buzzed. Within the half hour, you'll both have charmed whatever ladies are there. You're pretty sure that they're all under the impression that you're looking to add a third person to your bed but that's definitely never been the case with the two of you. Typically, whoever's state the two of you are in is who gets whatever numbers are given to the two of you.

(Except that one time where you both had gone to Houston and there was that one Brazilian/Italian escort. She gave you her number, and there was literally no way in hell you were giving that to Strider. You stayed an extra three nights in Texas that trip, and you have absolutely no regrets over the time you spent with her.)

After a few hours in the bar, you'll both have racked up a decent amount of numbers, the two of you will head back to your shared hotel room. At that point, you'll finish getting drunk while working on his website some, and then dick around on Netflix watching whatever movies or tv show seems particularly shiny at that point. Which brings you full circle, to the ridiculous heat of Texas. 

He had already checked the two of you in by the time you had gotten there, and the complex system was already rigged and ready to go. You had only been playing for ten minutes when you dropped the controller and dragged him to the roof with a decent sized bottle of tequila. Even with his ridiculous shades on, you could tell he was giving you concerned looks as you made your way up there and then settled in as comfortably as you could get up there.

The drinks you had before and on the plane ride don't stop you from draining almost a third of the bottle on your own, and Strider's just quietly waiting for you to crack. When you hand it to him, it feels like something cracks you burst like a dam. You cry as you talk about how frustrated you are over your work projects and how Rose seems to hate you no matter what you do and how you have an almost crippling sense of loneliness when you think about the last time you actually went on a date. There was a solid ten minutes of you crying and talking, and you were definitely wasted at this point.

After the first thirty seconds or so, he had moved beside you and pulled you to his side. He didn't care that your makeup (and probably snot, too) was getting onto his standard white polo, he kept his arm around your shoulder until you stopped crying and felt like you had collected yourself somewhat. You're sleepy, and instead of pulling yourself off his shoulder, you lean a bit more on him and relax. You may not actually know “Bro” Strider's real name, and he definitely doesn't know yours, but he's the human equivalent of safety in your world.

The next thing you remember is him helping you change into pajamas and then sitting up to drink two glasses of water and some aspirin. The two of you settle against the headboard on one of the beds, with him staying closer than usual to you. He's pulled bags of chips from what seems like out of nowhere, and is alternating between having you eat them and impersonating a vacuum cleaner. It looks like he's put some fantasy like show going on the TV, and from what you can tell there's some young girl who's supposed to be a queen?

It's only been on for a few minutes, but soon Strider's comments start rolling in. He talks about how for someone who's thirteen, she's really hot and makes more than a few comparisons to the anime that he typically watches when he has some "alone time." After managing to navigate your phone well enough to look up the actress, you agree that she’s attractive, but call him a dirty old man. Clearly lusting after someone so “young” means he's as nasty as the people who get off on the images of those puppets that he posts. He laughs and says that must make you a run of the mill old perverted bastard if he's the dirty old man. That show lasts maybe another fifteen minutes before he puts in Kill Bill and the two of you poke fun at it the entire way through.

You two may not be in love with each other, but he's a rock in your world and you wouldn't have it any other way.

**Author's Note:**

> Noooooooo, this really did make me sad. Mom Lalonde could use a truckload of happiness and kittens. I couldn't remember if the Striders were based in Houston or Austin or some other big city, so I shrugged and made up whatever.
> 
> Also, I casually referenced a character from a show that I watched recently. Cookies for anyone who gets it.


End file.
